I contradict myself more than I would like to admit.
I've come up with solutions, but I just can't commit.
I think I would like this world more if I never opened my eyes.
And I'm waiting for the rains to come and flood out my head,
to drown my sorrows, but it seems they've learned to swim.
Searching for anything and everything that's welcoming.
I'm welcomed by open arms with severed hands,
But severed hands hold on to nothing.
So for now, I'll just keep following
ghosts down these dead ends.
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